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sympathy poem

era un oysterman giovane alto
la luna aumentante ha nascosto le stelle
dai prati ricchi con cereale
da solo
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
diami la fame
non brucio incenso
nel vostro volo
una penna di acciaio
per allora senza
ciò è l'arsenale

 



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